


Let Me Be

by Ahelpfulpeach



Series: She-Ra Canon Universe Stories [1]
Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Catra (She-Ra), Pre-Canon, Sickfic, repressed babies are doing their best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:02:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24666577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahelpfulpeach/pseuds/Ahelpfulpeach
Summary: "Catra couldn’t remember the last time her body felt this awful all on its own. Every muscle ached, her head was throbbing, and she felt… Not helpless. Never helpless. But blinded. She couldn’t smell anything and her ears felt clogged. It was like she was seeing the world through a sheet, only able to make out the faint outlines, everything muffled.No one could know."
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Series: She-Ra Canon Universe Stories [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1763977
Comments: 32
Kudos: 343





	Let Me Be

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone keeping track of the timeline for this series, this one takes place about 2 years pre-canon.
> 
> This fic was entirely inspired by a bit during season 1 in The Beacon episode, while Glimmer is glitching out because of Shadow Weaver. She asks what you should do if you have a cold, and Adora IMMEDIATELY is like “STAY OUT OF SIGHT!” And goes on to explain displays of physical weakness were strongly discouraged in the Horde. So I was like I need to extrapolate on this. And since cats tend to hide when they’re sick anyway, I figured Catra would be a good one to do this through.

Catra couldn’t remember the last time her body felt this _awful_ all on its own. Every muscle ached, her head was throbbing, and she felt… Not helpless. Never helpless. But blinded. She couldn’t smell anything and her ears felt clogged. It was like she was seeing the world through a sheet, only able to make out the faint outlines, everything muffled.

No one could know.

And at first, she thought she did an okay job hiding it. Catra got up early that morning, washed her face, made sure she looked presentable, if tired. Only Adora gave her more than a passing glance and that… well, that was just Adora. Catra had caught her spacing out staring at her more than once, so it was probably nothing. She chose to believe it was nothing, refused to check if Adora had seen anything. It was fine. She was fine.

Training was awful. She felt sluggish, every move slowed because her world was off balance, couldn’t get a read on anyone. Even _Kyle_ managed to get a hit in when they paired off. Granted, it was Kyle, so the blow hurt Catra’s pride more than her body.

“Sorry!” he yelped, stumbling back. Catra drove into him, maybe beating him a little bloodier than she had to. But the others couldn’t know. She was strong, tough. A tap in the leg meant nothing, not compared to what she could dish out.

“Catra!”

Hands on her shoulders only infuriated her more. She drove her elbow back, connecting solidly with whoever was behind her, driving the air out of their lungs.

“Dude, he’s had enough!” Suddenly, Lonnie was in Catra’s face, shoving her back. Behind her, Rogelio was pulling Kyle to his feet, offering a rag for his bloody nose. Shit. The scrawny boy really did look like a mess.

Wait. That meant…

The world seemed to spin around her as those same hands guided Catra away from the other three.

“Geez, what’d he do to piss you off so much?”

Adora. Catra suppressed the flash of guilt. She’d snuck up on her in combat training. Adora should’ve expected to get hit.

“Just toughening him up,” Catra growled, hating how hoarse her voice was. No matter how much water she’d chugged before everyone woke up, she hadn’t been able to suppress that symptom.

And Adora noticed. _Of course_ she did. Stupid, fucking observant idiot.

“Catra? Are you-”

“I’m fine!” Catra jerked away with a snarl. She didn’t need Adora’s pity. Didn’t need anyone. She. Was. Fine.

The determined set to her jaw, the narrowing of her eyes, Catra could read Adora even if she did feel like she was about to pass out. Almost before Adora began the motion, Catra dodged out of the way of her hand.

“Just leave me alone!”

Distantly, like she was shouting through water, Catra could hear Adora call after her. She didn’t care. She just needed to get away. Find somewhere quiet, away from the noise and lights that filled every hallway and seemed to pound on the inside of her skull. Somewhere she could recover by herself.

As soon as she got outside, Catra made a beeline for the warehouses. Half of them were barely used, and even if someone did wander in, there was enough space and enough cover that they’d never find her. Not even if they were looking. No one had yet, anyway.

Slipping into one of the buildings, Catra hunted down one of her hiding spots. As she expected, nothing had been disturbed, even though it’d been a few months since she’d been to this one. Really, what _were_ they using all these buildings for? It didn’t matter. None of the Horde’s bullshit mattered right then, not training, not orders, not her stupid team. What mattered was the ache in her body that had become unbearable.

Wincing, Catra curled up on the blanket she’d left behind, digging her claws into the rough wool. A cough she’d been suppressing since she woke up shook her frame, leaving her gasping for breath. After a few more of those awful, painful coughs, Catra reached under a crate, grasping blindly, hoping... Yes! Her fingers closed on the metal of a thermos she’d left ages ago.

One she quickly realized had a crack in it.

Catra threw the useless object as hard as she could, choking on a sob. _God fucking dammit_. With nothing left to do, she curled in on herself, shivering. Nothing felt comfortable. The blanket itched, the room was cold, her throat was parched and her body burned. She couldn’t even ground herself with scent because she couldn’t fucking smell anything. Utterly miserable, Catra closed her eyes and tried to just block the world out. If she could just sleep, at least she wouldn’t be aware of how terrible everything was, for a bit.

It almost worked. Under all the aches, Catra just felt exhausted. If she could just lay still long enough, she was sure she’d pass out, uncomfortable or not. She was pretty sure she did, at least for a little while.

But clattering elsewhere in the warehouse had her sitting bolt upright again, covering her mouth to smother the hiss of pain. She dug the claws of her free hand into her leg. It was fine. Someone else probably was looking for a moment of peace. Or, less likely, looking for whatever was stored in all these crates. That was all. No one was coming for her, she’d made sure of it. She was fine.

Whoever it was was muttering to themself, though what they were saying, Catra couldn’t make out. Definitely just trying to get away from everything then. Catra forced herself to lay down again, pressing close to the boxes surrounding her, curling up as tightly as her aching body would allow. As long as she was quiet, it would be fine. They’d never stumble over her, there were plenty of other spots to hide for a bit.

Even with the footfall and clatter of things being moved, Catra nearly fell asleep again. She was just so tired. She needed this, just for a minute.

“Catra!”

She froze, every fair on her body on end. The whispered call was all too close. Had she dozed off? Catra wasn’t sure. What she _was_ sure, was that she’d heard her name, heard it close by, and knew that voice. Would know that voice anywhere, stuffed up ears or no. Heart racing, Catra backed as far into the shadows as her hiding spot allowed, closing her eyes. She didn’t want to see Adora. Couldn’t risk some traitorous part of her responding to her call. Couldn’t let her see her like this, so fucking _weak_.

“Catra, please, I know you’re here somewhere. I found your thermos.”

Catra wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ respond to the poorly concealed concern in Adora’s voice. She latched on to the exasperation instead. Maybe she’d get frustrated and give up. Yeah. Like she literally had never done once in her goddamn life. That would happen.

Maybe she’d at least think she’d moved on, found somewhere else to go.

Catra could hear Adora scrambling inelegantly onto a crate somewhere close by. Way _way_ too close.

 _“_ Please? I brought dinner, and some water,” Adora’s voice was a little louder, like she was trying to address the whole warehouse while also whispering, “and I snagged an extra blanket and pillows from the laundry.” A hollow thud, Catra supposed she’d sat down.

“I won’t even stay if you don’t want me to,” there was a note of desperation in her tone, “But you were acting weird, and I just want to make sure you’re okay and you’re not being an idiot and you have something to eat and drink.”

Catra wondered if Adora _had_ decided it was likely she’d left. There was something unguarded about the way she was talking. Something dangerous and… intriguing.

“Look I’ll just… I’ll leave it here,” another thud, “Right by this big metal crate. Which I realize is not a great descriptor but, uh… It’s kinda close to a big, wrapped up stack of crates, which are a little smaller than the one I put your stuff by. Individually, I mean, the crates in the stack would be smaller if they were on their own. The stack is really tall.” A moment later, Catra could hear her steps getting closer.

“I… I’ll see you later. You know where I’ll be.”

That traitorous part finally found its voice.

“Adora,” Catra croaked, half certain Adora wouldn’t even hear her.

“Catra!?” No such luck then. She heard Adora darting back to the supplies, gathering it up.

“Where are you?”

Catra tried to speak, she really did. She knew she was caught. There was no point in hiding and she was too tired to drag it out. The quicker Adora found her, the quicker she could sleep. That was it. But the noise that escaped her was awful. It was weak, pained, and all too honest. She felt like shit and that noise let anyone who could hear it know.

Almost immediately, Adora’s face appeared between the crates. For a too long moment, she looked relieved and happy. Happy to have found Catra. Then she broke eye contact, struggling to squeeze through the opening with her bundle. Some awkward wiggling later, Adora finally was able to crawl to Catra’s side, offering the water bottle first.

“Your voice sounds like shit,” she mumbled in explanation. Catra barely heard her, grabbing the bottle and chugging as much as she could in one go, earning a weak laugh from Adora.

“Good thing I brought two. Are you hungry?” Catra glanced at the ration bar in Adora’s hand and felt her stomach turn. Not trusting her voice, she just shook her head. Adora set it aside, already onto her next mission, which appeared to be building a nest. She’d set the pillows, as well as her own jacket and backpack against one of the ‘walls’ of the hiding spot, gesturing for Catra to lay down.

Catra only complied because she was tired. Not because it looked comfy. Certainly not to bury her face in Adora’s jacket. She wouldn’t be able to smell anything anyway. Adora settled with her back against the wall, close enough to touch, but not reaching out. Mismatched eyes watched her hand clench and unclench against her thigh.

Whatever. Catra was tired, too tired for these games, and her head was pounding again. With a grunt, she shoved her head against Adora’s leg, just below her hand. She wouldn’t look up, didn’t want to see the expression that came with the tightening of every muscle in Adora’s body. All Catra wanted was for her to take the hint.

Adora did. Of course she did. She scooted a little closer, allowing Catra to rest her head on the pillow again, to face away, and threaded her fingers through Catra’s unruly mane of hair. The barest hint of pressure against Adora’s hand was Catra’s approval, her request. Adora didn’t speak, just began working her fingers through her hair, carefully—always so careful, how’d someone who could challenge Rogelio in feats of strength get to be so _gentle_?—untangling any knots.

Catra was purring. She knew it, Adora knew it, they both knew the other knew. But fuck it. This was already such a terribly weak moment, what the hell would this matter? Adora wouldn’t bring it up again, she knew better. As soon as Catra felt better they could just leave this in the past. It would be fine.

As Catra started to nod off again, she heard Adora slide down the wall behind her, hands still busy with her hair.

She was fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Let Me Be" by Escape the Fate because I'm a slut for dual meanings
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy! If you're on there, I'm also very active on Tumblr @ahelpfulpeach.


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